


Cyber sleuths don't pine

by ticoyuu



Category: Digimon - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Oral Fixation, author screaming 2k words in "WHEN WILL THE DICKS TOUCH ALREADY??", it's. very minor. there if you squint, lowkey pining, porn with minor plot, re-nameable protag was renamed sorry, runon sentences hurt me like kyokos coffee im gonna have to sit down n edit at not 4am, some humor courtesy of kyoko's un-coffee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 14:44:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15415272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ticoyuu/pseuds/ticoyuu
Summary: A realization is suddenly reached concerning Arata and feelings. Kyoko's coffee is still disgusting and inedible yet potent as hell. Arata has always intrigued him. Like a true sleuth, Sanzu Aiba reflects, analyzes, and goes with the most reasonable and immediately available option.Title is a cop out and this is basically just porn.





	Cyber sleuths don't pine

**Author's Note:**

> alternatively titled ARATA IS HOT, SUE ME
> 
> i just finished the shinjuku labyrinth episode after spending like 7 hours grinding up my digimons because MAN THIS IS SOME FASCINATING STUFF with arata following me around in the entrance area and giving me distinct ‘just me & my MAN in the metaverse fuckin up enemies fuckin up EACH OTHER’ vibes and then they had a cute little interaction on digiline re: ‘did you get away from the cops ok’ and. Yeah i had to stop and write this because my arata thirst can no longer be contained
> 
> also, i am physically unable to un-associate ‘takumi’ from the ppp (PRICKLY PINEAPPLE PRINCE) of hoeshido so i renamed the mc to what i called him in my game-- sorry if it’s a bit jarring! additionally, as the scope of this fic is also pretty much EVERYTHING i know about modern digimon inc cyber sleuth (the last digimon i consumed was when i was a baby geck terribly charmed by the ol taito ship), apologies in advance for possibly ooc arata.
> 
> \--so anyway remember a couple fics back i said i'd only write porn if i somehow grew MASSIVE BALLS?? well. i still dont have MASSIVE BALLS but fictional character thirst surpassing critical mass has the same effect ig. ANYWAY I HOPE THIS IS ENJOYABLE, N-NYA

Arata sends Sanzu a DigiLine message a couple hours after the fact.

 

_     Arata: Yo! Could you shake the cops after that? _

_     Arata: You gotta be smarter than that! _

 

It’s so typically (and also typically a little perplexing)  _ Arata _ , with his laidback but formally worded  (and caring, Sanzu admits to no one in particular) attitude on top of the fact he sends this a good three or four hours after Sanzu had made it back to Kyoko’s office and narrowly survived the Brown Sludge Menace: Episode 2, that combined to make for a less than enthused Sanzu.

Kyoko had informed him while he sat woozily on the couch that she was promoting him to Young Cyber Sleuth, which, while not particularly impressive-sounding, was a nice step up from Starter Cyber Sleuth (and before that, ...Baby Cyber Sleuth).

 

He left Arata on read, which was entirely fair-- not that it would bother him at all like it would Nokia-- for another couple hours spent relaxing and watching cat videos before starting to wake from the ‘Coffee That Never Was: Phase 1’ stupor and remembered DigiLine’s existence.

(Kyoko’s un-coffee was weird in that it had a backwards caffeine effect; due to being horrible, disgusting, and generally unsafe for human consumption, it would first knock him straight out into a kind of wobbly half-conscious state, then slowly fill him with energy like a battery plugged straight into a power source. Once there, it sustained a state of pleasant buzzing that kept him refreshed and happy for a weirdly long time.

Ergo, ‘civilian’ coffee was weak as hell and had absolutely  _ nothing _ on that shit.)

 

So when Sanzu finally got around to replying to his a little mean, but well-intentioned friend, his text read a little snappy but he knew Arata wouldn’t be offended. That was one of the things that made Sanzu more comfortable in Arata’s company over Nokia’s; with the latter it sometimes felt like carefully stepping on eggshells, but with the former, there was already a trail of social carnage blazed in shell bits with sticky yolk congealing everywhere.

__

_     Sanzu: I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU RAN AWAY FIRST AND LEFT ME BEHIND _

 

DigiLine pinged less than three minutes later, Arata’s reply near instant.

 

_     Arata: Keep your complaints to yourself. Just avoiding complications, Cyber Sleuth. _

 

...Okay, so Arata texted sometimes like a stone cold asshole, but as Sanzu had discovered back when they still called each other Aiba and Blue Box, he just had to think about the eggshells analogy and the ice would thaw to read as comfortable, if a little bossy, teasing. Like a snowball fight with an older sibling or cousin.

Arata was neither and Sanzu didn’t even know his full name, but they’d met in reality and Eden often enough since the Mr. Navi incident that the untidy yet fluffy bangs and eyes-narrowed smirk in the little DigiLine profile pic had become as familiar as any of his school friends.

Sanzu texted back an unimpressed text face with a capital T mouth under two dots for eyes and then smiled, his tiny chuckle becoming a full-on giggle fit when Arata sent back the universally understood shrug emoji.

Kyoko, who had been preparing to leave for the evening, shot him an odd look that lingered studiously for a moment before curving into a knowing smirk. “Don’t get so caught up making eyes at your lover that you neglect your job, Young Cyber Sleuth.”

If any of the not-coffee had still been in his general upper digestive region Sanzu probably would’ve spat it back out and unintentionally set the office on fire, but it had been hours already and only his eyes bugged out a bit as he choked at the word ‘lover’ passing Kyoko’s lips.

 

“That’s- he’s-”

“Ohh, so it’s a boy then?” The ‘oh’ was a drawn-out drawl, and suddenly Sanzu’s boss seemed equally devilish and menacing as her demon-grade coffee.

 

Startled, Sanzu coughed and sucked in a large breath before gasping out,  _ “No!” _ louder than strictly necessary, and got up from the couch to hurry Kyoko out the door with hands pushing at her back.  Kyoko laughed all the way out and reminded him through the door to lock up. 

 

As the clicking of her heels faded down the hall, Sanzu’s Digivice pinged again, and he scrambled to grab it from where it had fallen on the couch to check. Not Arata, just a status update from Mirei, and several other inconsequential messages.

He replied to several curious Digimons’ questions and then sent back shorter answers to the more trivia-obsessed ones, then settled under a thin blanket in to text his mom not to worry about him and pillowed his head on one armrest, feet kicked up on the other.

Behind his head, the high-tech TV emitted a soft blue glow that mingled with the lamp behind Kyoko’s desk to create a cozy atmosphere lit in dim orange hues and Sanzu messaged Arata to complain.

 

_     Sanzu: MY BOSS IS A JERK _

_     Arata: Ah. Mystery Drink X again? _

_     Sanzu: no… that was earlier. survived it and feel refreshed now though    _

_     Arata: Great! More energy makes you run faster. _

_     Arata: Isn’t that so, Cyber Sleuth? _

_     Sanzu: YOU’RE ALSO A JERK YOU KNOW   _

_     Arata: Thanks, it means a lot to know how you feel about me. _

_     Sanzu: AAAAAAAHGH. _

_     Arata: Everything okay over there? _

_     Arata: I thought you said you weren’t a baby sleuth anymore. _

_     Sanzu: i am NOT, i’ve been promoted twice since then, you absolute asshole _

_     Arata: uwu _

_     Sanzu: 눈_눈 _

 

...Lately, this had gotten to be their routine. Rather than just comparing notes on the Digital World like how they’d started out, Sanzu would complain about crazy cases or his quirky boss or close cyberspace scrapes and Arata would listen, occasionally interjecting a comment or emoji that made Sanzu laugh.

Arata was quirky in a different way from Kyoko and fun to talk to, the same as ‘Blue Box’. Now though, it felt more personal.

 

After bidding each other goodnight and Arata logged off, Sanzu occupied himself with a bit of personal sleuthing: scrolling up the message log with a slight frown that occasionally morphed to a lips pressed together, irked frown or a low smile that pulled up at the corners or a brows drawn together baffled expression, or..., or--

\--Or, nothing. No, one couldn’t be a detective, cyber and in-training or not, without good perception, reasoning, and quick analysis. Sanzu considered himself growing on all three fronts from a decent base statline and additionally, his ability to adapt to (increasingly) weird and unexpected or surprising twists had also had no choice but to improve as of late.

The world had always been spinning with Sanzu still and unperturbed at the center, but the conclusion he’d arrived at based on the fact he was so comfortable with Arata and the multitude of expressions the veteran hacker could draw out of him made Sanzu feel like he’d been rocket launched into the oxygen-less atmosphere. The skinny redhead he observed from an impersonal above  _ definitely _ wasn’t himself. That was not him, rolling over to groan dishearteningly with his face, sizzling red like his hair, pressed into the cushion.

It took a few minutes for Sanzu to talk himself back down from his dizzying astral projection of a realization and unceremoniously flump back over to stare at the ceiling.

This was weird, human brains were weird as shit, he and Arata had been running around dominating the glitched-out subway for hours as they searched for the Eater and they’d had lots of physical contact the entire time. He’d felt nothing but gratitude and maybe a little thrill, a normal adrenaline-fueled fighting instinct, the numerous times Arata had grabbed some part of his body to yank his inexperienced newbie ass out of a fire (sometimes literally). 

But now, recalling Arata’s hands prodding on his face after he’d been thrown back into the wall-- then, it was irksome; now, ...he wasn’t quite ready to admit  _ that _ one-- or Arata’s surprisingly solid arm snaking around his torso to bodily throw the both of them out of the path of a black, crackling energy beam, and…

It was too far down that particular rabbit hole of memory to  _ not  _ fixate next on how the Eater’d had them backed up against a wall, and he’d froze with noncompliant limbs because Sanzu was still a newbie and he’d since learned the feeling of having his very  _ being _ eroded, even if it hadn’t fully succeeded back then.

 

(Arata knocked Sanzu away from a frilled, lashing tentacle along with the breath from his lungs and braced himself with the redhead trembling against his body. Sanzu had reflexively fisted his hands, tight, into the open front of Arata’s white jacket, so reflecting on it now, he knew Arata had his back to the monster to keep Sanzu to his chest, yelling a command over his shoulder to Keramon and Sanzu’s black and white Gatomon pair. He’d trusted the Digimon with both of their lives as he held Sanzu, offering himself as a solid and comforting human presence.

For the remainder of the fight, Arata had directed Keramon from there (who in turn, acted like a field general for the cat Digimons) with short phrases that became nonverbal signals when the battle roared extra loud, the arm around his back and hand placed comfortingly in Sanzu’s hair gripping too tightly being the only tell that Sanzu wasn’t the only needing the close proximity.

It was only after the Eater’s nautilus-shaped shell had cracked from dual Lightning Paws and Keromon’s Destruction Cannon fired directly into the break that the Eater dissipated along with the glitchy subway, and Arata let go of him hurriedly now that they were back aboveground. A piercing whistle had him fleeing in a hurry. Then Date showed up and Sanzu scrambled away in the opposite direction.)

 

Sanzu was still on the couch but no longer relaxed. Putting the Digivice on the coffee table next to him, the trainee hacker-sleuth threw his hands over his face and slithered down off the armrest. Thinking about how he’d clung to Arata like a security blanket and Arata clutched him like a teddy bear in return thinking they might  _ die _ , dying part aside, made the room suddenly feel too warm and Sanzu kicked off the blanket, resolutely not looking at anything with a reflective surface.

The whole experience was  _ so very like _ Arata, he thought. The older hacker could be irritating and secretive and everything from fun-hating grouch to teasing bordering on provocative, but both times their lives had been in danger he’d put theirs above his own. He was a veteran hacker and tactician with no hesitancy to trust his allies and clearly had past experience even if he turned dodgy when asked. To Sanzu he was supremely impressive even before, but it took that particular brush with death for Sanzu to realize just how deep his fascination with the other had become.

 

A long groan escaped him then. Sanzu’s  _ face _ was hot,  _ Arata _ had very suddenly become  _ smoking _ hot (in the back of Sanzu’s mind, some part of him distantly wondered about human perception being such a weird thing), and just as suddenly his thin sweatpants felt uncomfortably tight at the crotch.

Sanzu made a temporary truce with the gay panic, resolved to think about it later ( _ way _ later), and his fate was sealed from the first brush of fingers over his still-clothed dick.

 

The door was locked; Sanzu had done it earlier before settling on the couch with the intention of texting Arata then sleeping. He was suddenly grateful none of the Broadway building’s first floor shops were open at night; sound carried and he definitely didn’t like the notion of everyone in the building getting an earful of the low moan that slipped past clenched teeth just then.

It felt  _ good  _ to palm his cock through two layers of pajama pants and underwear, it always had; and true to his personality he’d always shrugged and figured why not indulge a kink if he had it, but today he couldn’t stop thinking about Arata’s hands buried in his hair and pressed into his side holding him tight. Today Sanzu wanted skin on skin and his hands curled into the fabric of his shirt for a moment, holding, twisting, flexing; before moving south.

Sanzu pulled the waistband of his pants down below his ass but left his boxers on. He wasn’t yet so into it that he couldn’t recognize underwear as less embarrassing laundry than an entire couch, so he touched himself with a hand slipped under the elastic of his boxers, teasing himself fully hard with light pressure interspersed with firm strokes.

It had been a while and Sanzu didn’t want to come too soon or be too loud, so he kept himself quiet soaking the joints of curled fingers on his other hand pressed into his mouth. Slipping his tongue over and around and pressing against the digits, he had no trouble pretending they were long and slender and belonged to someone else. 

His cock was completely hard within the minute, its length standing out from his crotch to curve back towards his stomach despite the fact he was lying flat on his back. Sanzu gasped and scrabbled to sit up a bit more, reorienting himself so his side was pressed up against the junction of the couch’s back and armrest. He wouldn’t fall off like that and it was warm, close contact pressing against the length of his body.

(Sanzu grabbed for the blanket and spread it under his ass before allowing himself to go any further; come stains on that was still better than on the couch.)

 

Another moan escaped around wet fingers, this one rising to a keen at the end as Sanzu switched hands, the saliva-slick one he’d been sucking like candy adding saliva to the wetness from pre he’d swiped with a thumb from the leaking slit on the head. Instead of keeping the other hand stretching his lips in an ‘o’, once he’d licked the precome from his fingers Sanzu let it wander down the line of his throat, past barely standout collarbones to skitter over his chest and soft abs before pressing up, soft, on the underside of a nipple. It peaked nicely under his fingers as he stroked there as well, avoiding hard pressure or pinches and he did the same to the other one with his head thrown back, eyes screwed shut and cheek pressed into the cushion.

He must’ve been quite a sight, pressing his body against the couch, legs with flinching thighs parted and a shiny glob of pre gathering at the tip before leaking down the length of his cock; following a wet trail from the indent on the head to ooze over the ridge before sliding along the slightly raised vein to catch with prior drops at the junction of his balls. Some of it he caught up, dipping his fingers in the slick liquid pooling there and smearing it over the length of his shaft, a shuddering gasp as he gripped below the ridge with too much pressure. The rest dripped down the velvety-hot skin of his balls and through the crack of his ass. The way it slid over his perineum and down to the ring of muscle around his hole felt weird but it was  _ hot _ and wet and then his asshole clenched and Sanzu slipped down the couch’s back with a whine to lie on his back again, head on the armrest and ass in the air as far as it could.

He lay there for a bit, eyes fixed on the hard shaft dribbling onto his stomach after the position change and hips thrust up with legs braced against the seat cushions. It was reddened and a bit shiny with all that it had leaked out that he’d smeared around and it felt like it pulsed, in time with the heat coiling in his lower belly. Sanzu had never paid any particular attention to looking at his own cock, hard or not, but now his gaze was hungry and the only thoughts occupying his mind were wondering about Arata’s, whether it would be surprisingly impressive like its owner and which parts would make Arata moan, unrestrained, and fist a hand in Sanzu’s hair when he loved it with his mouth, how it would stretch his lips compared to fingers curled at the second joint--

Through the haze of heat and fantasy Sanzu hadn’t noticed he’d started stroking himself fast and hard, his other hand wandering up and down the planes of his torso to occasionally tweak hardened nipples. The realization he wouldn’t last much longer was abrupt and he grabbed blindly at the table for his Digivice, the screen blinking on to resume where he’d left Arata’s texts open, and his cock twitched and dripped and Sanzu’s eyes locked on to Arata’s face smirking at him from the screen and then he was coming with a long whimper, covering the hand still stroking himself with spurts of come and he clutched the Digivice like a lifeline in the other, grounding himself with it against waves of pleasure.

 

Sanzu’s senses came back down to earth slowly, and peeling his sticky fingers from where they were still wrapped around his sensitive (but soft now) dick made him wince a bit. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was already reflecting on that orgasm’s unusual intensity; either Kyoko’s monster coffee was magical in a newly discovered third way or he’d really just been  _ that _ pent up, or jerking off to thoughts of a specific person with desires targeted specifically at them automatically made things more intense than imagining appealing traits on a nebulous somebody. He suspected it was mostly the third theory (although the first two likely contributed), and that made him curious but a little wary. This was unexplored territory for him, but the sated and pleasant buzz weighed him down comfortably and the gay panic he’d called a tactical truce with and put aside earlier would have to wait for tomorrow. 

With only half a mind thinking about anything at all, Sanzu wiped himself down and sponged up anything that hadn’t already soaked into his clothes or the blanket (thankfully, the couch was in the clear) before changing his underwear and putting the now-sticky boxers along with his jacket and several other laundry items in a bag by the door, next to the one containing wet paper towels and other misc office rubbish labelled ‘trash’.

Housekeeping finished, Sanzu lay back down on the couch and was asleep sometime between snuggling into the blanket and pillowing his head on armrest. He didn’t dream.

\---

 

Kyoko burst into the office bright and early the next morning, and drawled, _“Rise and shine, baby sleuth,”_   right into his ear.

The blanket was flung off as Sanzu woke instantly and sat straight up, blinking groggily as Kyoko flicked on the overhead lights one by one. He’d apparently left the TV on despite turning off the lamp before falling asleep and his boss’s gaze slanted towards the door, lingering suspiciously long over the two garbage bags before glancing up and down his person with a leer becoming more devilish by the second.

Sanzu’s face immediately flushed the same color as his hair with the realization that in addition to oversleeping, he hadn’t put his pants back on. Kyoko hummed, going about the office setting things up and mercifully ignored her tomato-red assistant who was sitting stiffly on the couch with both hands pulling down the hem of his shirt to plant them firmly between his knees.

 

Kyoko waved a thermos at him from where she was leaning on the desk, and her voice had an entirely too smirky lilt to it as she asked if he’d like some coffee.

“A new special blend-” she’d started to add, but Sanzu woke fully at those four ominous words.

 

“No thanks I’m good!!” Grabbing his pants and Digivice off the table, Sanzu was out of the room in seconds, fully dressed, and took the laundry and trash with him. The owner of K-Coffee upstairs had some choice and suspicious and distinctly a bit envious words for him when he stopped by, still with a slight blush, to grab a cup of  _ normal _ coffee, but Sanzu just smiled at him appeasingly and and admitted a pared-to-the-bones version of the morning’s events.

Sanzu couldn’t help laughing a little at the owner’s sputtering, and it mingled with the waitress Sacchan’s thoroughly amused wheezing as he walked out.

**Author's Note:**

> so what i set out to do was write a 2-player dick touching around the concept of arata cleaning up _really well_. clearly, that did not happen. but now that i've written BABY'S FIRST PORNFIC the forecast for part 2 also happening is positive :3/
> 
> blease feel free to comment if you feel so inclined, i'm always a slut for discussion and/or incoherent rambling (but no spoilers past this fic's window please)! mmmmMmM.


End file.
